Archer's Errand
by Whatsinaname1997
Summary: **Sequel to "Dixon's Archer" **. Daryl Dixon goes missing and Emma Archer is determined to find him. / "You're not going." Rick said with finality. His eyes were hard and his chin was set. Emma's protests died on her lips. Her mind was already formulating a plan. **COMPLETE**
1. What time is it?

Archer's Errand

Chapter 1

What time is it?

A goddamn knock on the door interrupted Daryl's dreams just as they were about to get good. His eyes flicked open, it was still dark. At this hour, someone at the door was bad news.

There was another knock. "Shit." He whispered, rolling out of the bed he shared with Emma. He padded to the door barefoot, wearing only his boxers. He pulled on a t-shirt before cracking the door open. "What?"

Rick was there. "Trouble. Get your bow and meet me in the barracks."

"Damn." Daryl cussed drawing his hand over his face. "You need Emma too?"

Rick shook his head. "Just you."

Daryl nodded. "What time is it?"

"Too damn early." Rick looked tired. "See you in ten." His friend turned away from the door and walked off.

"Yeah." Daryl sighed, closing the door. It was way the fuck too early. He turned back to see if Emma'd woken up, she hadn't. That woman slept like the dead.

In the low light he could make out the curve of her hips under the blankets. She was lying on her side, facing away from him. His cock stirred at the sight and he wondered if he could squeeze in a quickie.

He walked back to the bed and leaned over to kiss the back of her neck. He sniffed her hair and fixed the scent of it in his mind. With a little smirk, he dragged his whiskered chin along the top of her shoulder. Emma shuddered a little at his touch. Daryl knew exactly how to get his woman goin'. All he'd hafta do now was slide his hand over her breast and flick her pink nipple. They'd be all perky for him now.

His hand slid possessively over the curve of her hip. He wondered if his fingers would come away wet if he slid them into her pussy.

"Fuck." Daryl sighed as he stood up and grabbed the pants he had hastily discarded on the floor last night. "No goddamn time." He muttered as he tugged them on before his dick changed his mind.

-{O}-

Emma awoke with the sun and rolled over to find Daryl had left the bed. With bleary eyes she searched their shared room. Daryl was gone, so was his crossbow. He didn't usually carry the Horton with him inside the fort. Emma frowned, something was up.

Emma dressed quickly knowing that if she hurried she could stop by the front gate and ask whoever was on watch if Daryl had gone out hunting that morning. Daryl didn't often venture to the woods for game. The river provided Fort Charles with plenty of fish, and they raised enough small animals keep protein on the menu. Daryl did bring in the odd deer and venison was a much appreciated change to their diet.

After tugging on her paddock boots Emma ducked out the door and headed down the narrow stone stairway to the parade square. The air was cool and damp with the dew of early summer. Aside from the sentries, it seemed everyone was still asleep. The only sound she heard aside from her foot falls on the stone ground was the trickle of water from the irrigation tubes in the vegetable gardens.

If the irrigation was on, that meant the watch would be changing up. Emma picked up her pace, jogging past the inner gatehouse and down towards the front gates. As she turned the corner she nearly crashed into Tyreese.

"Jesus!" She skidded to a halt in front of him, her heart pounding with surprise. "You scared the crap out of me."

Tyreese chuckled. "Lookin' for Daryl?"

She fell into step beside him as he walked back to the square. "Yeah, did he go hunting this morning?"

The black man's lips drew into a tight line. "He went out with Rick. They took a crew out towards town. Saw lights on the highway, near one of our depots."

That made sense, the fortress was on high ground and they had a pretty good view of the landscape from their walls. At night, they could easily see lights in the surrounding area. "How long ago was that?"

"Two, maybe three hours ago." Tyreese stifled a yawn. "Rick said they'd be back after lunch."

She nodded, it would be hard to track down a car. "Who went?"

"Carl, the frenchies and Glenn." Tyreese rubbed his eyes. He looked tired. They had reached the stairway that led up to his quarters.

Wishing him a good sleep, she headed off to the stables. The moment the horses heard her footsteps approaching they started up a chorus of nickers and whinnies.

Churchill, her liver chestnut, squealed and kicked the walls of the stall.

"Hey Church." She said as she entered the barn.

_*thunk thunk*_ Churchill kicked his stall door and fixed her with a pointed look. _*Squeal*_

"Yeah, yeah, coming right up." She grabbed the bucket of feed she had set aside the previous night and headed towards his door.

He tossed his head impatiently. When she entered his stall, Churchill backed up and flattened his ears as he watched her empty the contents into his feed bin. She kept her eyes on him until she was safely on the other side of the stall door again, watching him dive greedily into his bucket.

"You're welcome." She muttered as she turned her attention to Michael's mare. Tank snorted and pawed the ground impatiently as she doled out her breakfast.

Sal's grey mare was more polite. Dolly gave a friendly whinnie and snuffled Emma's shoulder as her bucket was filled.

Always the last horse to be fed, Black waited silently for her. She stroked Black's sleek neck as he ate and let her mind drift back to her conversation with Tyreese. Since she and Gordie had been attacked last fall, Rick had insisted on upping their security. She still did circuits inside their known turf, but Rick sent larger groups to patrol the edge of their territory.

The people he had taken with him this morning were all good shots. That must mean he expected trouble.

_*thunk thunk* _

Emma's eyes focused on Churchill. His head was out of his feed bucket.

_*thunk thunk*_ He wanted out.

Sighing she gave Black one last pat on his neck before slipping out of his stall to start putting the horses out to graze.

-{O}-


	2. Overdue

Chapter 2

Overdue

"Hey, this seat taken?" A young, dark haired man sat next to her at the dinner table.

Emma recognized him as one of the three newcomers the clearing team had brought in a few days ago. Maggie was helping take the newcomers through the process since she'd been out with the team that found them. "Hey Theo."

He smiled broadly when she remembered his name. "You're Archer, right?"

"It's Emma, Emma Archer." She reached a hand out to shake his.

Gordie sat down across the table from Theo just as the young man started to raise Emma's hand to his lips. "Kid, you remember that hardass with the crossbow that gave you an ugly look when ya got here?"

Theo's brows knitted in confusion. "Yeah. Dixon."

"Yeah. That one." Gordie nodded at Emma. "That'd be his girlfriend you're cozying up to."

"Oh." Theo's face lost a little color. "I'm, uh…"

"Yeah, whatever." Gordie snorted. "Go sit at the other end of the table bud. Trust me. This one ain't worth the hassle."

Theo beat a hasty retreat.

Emma shook her head. "What the hell, Gordie?"

Michael and Joel arrived and took their usual places at the end of the table. Michael elbowed Emma as he sat down. "What did you say to the new kid? He looks like he's seen a ghost."

Emma raised an eyebrow at Gordie, he winked back. "I'm sure he's fine, Michael."

"Where's Daryl anyway?" Joel asked between bites of his stew.

"Just came from the front gates." Gordie grunted. "They ain't back yet."

Emma pursed her lips. The run was overdue. They'd be back though. Rick always brought everyone home safe.

-:{O}:-

Emma sat on the wall next to Michael and peered into the early evening shadows around the fortress. "They should be back by now." It wasn't Emma's watch but she was too restless to sleep.

"Not if they found a trail." Michael shifted in his chair, checking the treeline through the sight in his rifle. "They're going to want to find those people."

"They must have found something or they'd be back now." She crossed and uncrossed her arms.

"Stop it."

"Sorry?" Emma looked over at Michael.

He glanced at her with one grey eye. "You're all twitchy, Em. It's making me nervous."

"Oh." She made a conscious effort to keep still, but ended up crossing and uncrossing her legs.

"Not helping." Michael muttered, returning his attention to his rifle's sight. She stuck her tongue out at him.

His back stiffened. "We've got movement." His voice was flat.

"Dead or Alive?" She slid down from her perch.

"Car. Ours." Michael pulled away from the sight. "Coming in fast too. Better get Joel."

Emma's heart sank as she caught sight of the car as it came over a rise. It was coming in very fast. As Michael shouted to the other sentries she dashed down the stairs and headed towards Joel's quarters.

She skidded to a halt in front of Joel and Michael's room. The light was on. She pounded on the door. "Joel? Joel!" She heard movement inside. "We've got incoming."

Joel swung the door open as he swung his medical kit over his shoulder. "Do we know…"

She shook her head. "Car's coming back fast, we don't know for sure but.."

"Best to be ready." Joel nodded and pushed past her. "You stay up here and get the room ready. I want surgical set up."

Emma dodged into the alcove where the infirmary's dedicated generator lay. She started it and the glow of modern lighting crept out of the infirmary. Satisfied, she entered their make-shift hospital and set about the task that had been assigned to her.

Joel had shown her and Michael how to prep the room for surgical work. He did his best to maintain the room in a state of readiness, but there were some things that needed to be done last minute.

She pulled out the tray of tools from the cupboard where they lay. Put out needles, bottles of saline, painkillers and various other medical paraphernalia. When she was finished, she washed her hands in the basin with the antiseptic soap, and donned a pair of surgical gloves.

She stood there, hands in the air, waiting.

_God, I hate waiting_. She thought. Emma was always better when she had something to do. In order to stop her mind from worrying about Daryl, she re-scanned the room. Did she put everything exactly where Joel told her? Emma wondered if she had forgotten anything.

The door burst open. Glenn and Guy were carrying in a bloodied body on a backboard. Joel was leaning over his patient, applying pressure to a wound. "Em, I need you to hold this while I scrub."

She switched out with the doctor as the patient was set onto their exam table. Only once Emma was sure she was applying sufficient pressure did she look up at the patient's face.

Her stomach dropped. It was Jean, and he looked awfully pale.

"Guy – out." Joel barked as he donned his surgical gloves.

"No, I.." Jean's brother stammered.

Michael eased his way into the infirmary. "Guy, you've got to go. Joel's got this."

"You know the rules, man." Glenn took Guy by the elbow and led him out of the room. "No family allowed."

"Glenn?" Joel's voice was calm and orderly.

"Yeah?" Glenn's head popped back into the room.

"Send Shirley or Tyreese up. They're the same blood-type and we'll need a donor. If you can't find them, try Cap."

"On it." Glenn nodded and disappeared out the door.

"Scrub up Michael, you're on drugs and lungs." Joel tore at Jean's shirt, exposing the wound. "Emma I'm going to need your hands too."

Emma nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

-{O}-

Emma tossed the bloodied glove in the wastebasket as she finished cleaning up the mess of the surgery. Jean had been hit with a bullet in his side and one on his shoulder. Joel didn't seem too concerned with the shoulder. The doctor was very worried about the side wound. Emma could hear him explaining the details to Guy in quiet tones at the foot of Jean's bed.

Michael had returned to his quarters to rest already, Emma gave Guy a hug as she went by. The Quebequois accepted the hug half-heartedly, his eyes staying on his brother's face. Gordie, a close friend of the brothers, had taken up a chair in the corner of the room. He nodded to her as she headed for the door.

He'd keep watch with Guy.

Emma gave him a thankful smile and stepped out into the cool night air. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the stone wall, taking a deep breath. Emma had lost all track of time, but her body told her that her next order of business was to crawl into bed beside Daryl.

"Emma." Rick's voice startled her. He'd been sitting on the bench outside the infirmary. In her sleepy haze she'd walked right by him.

"Hey Rick. Joel will be out in a minute. Jean's patched up but…" She looked down at her boots, there were still traces of blood on them. "I dunno. Wait and see I guess."

"Emma, Daryl's missing."

Her head snapped up. "What?" It hadn't occurred to her that Daryl might not have returned.

"We tracked a group into town. They ambushed us." Rick stood, running a hand through his hair. "In the fighting, we lost track of him."

"So.. he got separated then?" The look on Rick's face turned her blood to ice.

"Glenn saw them toss someone into the trunk of their car." He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "He thought it was one of their own, but.."

"Is he…" She couldn't get the words out.

Rick shook his head. "They wouldn't have taken him if he was dead. He's alive."

"Where'd they take him?" Blood pounded in her ears. "What are they going to do to him?" The world started to close in on her.

"We don't know."

She shook her head. "No." Emma whispered, her eyes unseeing. _No. He's just missing. There has to be some kind of mistake._

"Emma?" Rick's voice sounded far away. "Emma you need to sit down."

-{O}-


	3. Not Good

Chapter 3

Not Good

Daryl wasn't sure where he was, but it was fuckin' dark. The room had a cold, tinny air to it. He was strung up by his arms, and his side hurt like hell.

He was really fuckin' pissed that he'd got caught. It had been a long time since anyone'd gotten the drop on him. Merle woulda chewed him out for lettin' that little piss-ant sneak up on his backside.

Daryl's legs were tied at the ankle. He got his feet under him and stood on his tip toes to take some of the weight off his arms. "Sonofabitch" he muttered as pain shot up his arms.

He rolled his head 'round, stretchin' out his neck. Rick would come. He was sure of that. Rick wouldn't let him down. Daryl just had to last. Wait these fuckers out. The cavalry would come, Daryl was sure of it.

Funny. Back in the days before the walkers, nobody gave a shit about Daryl Dixon. It took the world goin' to shit for Daryl to find a family. Rick was the brother Merle shoulda been. Emma was… well… "Shit." He muttered.

Emma was gonna be fuckin' pissed at him.

-{O}-

The next morning most of the Big Council was standing around the long table in the barracks pouring over maps as they finalized a plan to locate and retrieve Daryl. Rick and Glenn had been asked to join the council in the past year. Costas, Joel and Cap were there. Emma was the sole female voice in the room.

For the most part she held her peace, knowing Rick and Costas had more experience in this area. She did contribute her knowledge of the terrain as she had frequently ventured out in search of survivors.

"It's decided then." Costas pointed to the maps. "Two groups of six, we search by day and follow a grid pattern."

Emma nodded, leaning over the map. It was a good plan. "When do we leave?"

Rick's eyes flicked up at her from across the table. "Emma." His voice was low.

She shook her head. "I'm going. I need to find Daryl."

"They have guns, Emma." Costas placed a hand on her shoulder, she shrugged it off. "We need people who can shoot back on this."

"I'm good at recon." She crossed her arms defensively. "I can sneak up on them, get their numbers, bring back information."

Costas and Cap exchanged a worried look. Cap spoke first. "We need you here, Archer. Someone has to guard the fortress, you and Churchill are our best defense against a swarm."

"Bullshit and you know it Cap." She frowned. "If things get bad we hang behind the walls and poke at 'em with sticks."

"It's not going to be a recon mission, Archer." Glenn interjected, running a hand through his dark hair. "This is going to be a fight."

"That's all the more reason to bring me." Emma narrowed her eyes at Glenn. "You'll need someone to provide first aid. Joel can't be risked, but I can."

Joel pursed his lips. "She's got a point. Daryl might be hurt, having someone on the ground right away will help." The doctor's eyes met hers, she could see reluctance there. Joel's words might be in her favour, but he didn't want her going out there.

"You're not going." Rick said with finality. His eyes were hard and his chin was set. Emma's protests died on her lips. She frowned, but held her peace. Arguing wasn't going to get her anywhere. The more she fought them, the harder it would be for her.

Emma knew she'd have to bide her time. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the barracks. Her mind was already formulating a plan.

-{O}-


	4. Seriously?

Chapter 4

Seriously?

"Hey, Archer." Gordie stuck his head in the kitchen. "Get your punk-ass out here, Goddamn Churchill's loose."

"Crap." Emma set the dishes she'd been washing down. Her mind had been racing with worry for too long. Needing to do something constructive, she had volunteered to help with dinner clean-up.

She was not in the mood for a Churchill problem. Grabbing an apple off the counter and stuffing it into her pocket she followed Gordie outside. "Where is he?"

"This way." Gordie tossed a lead shank at her. Without looking to see if she'd catch it he stomped off. Emma had to jog to keep up with his long stride.

"How'd he get out?"

"Dunno." Gordie led her out of the parade square and down into the dry moat. "Damn near ran me over though."

They rounded a corner and saw Churchill cropping grass. The horse looked up when he saw them and snorted. He was a challenge to handle, but worth his weight in gold when it came to walkers.

"Okay, I've shown you where he is. Now he's your problem." The burly man shook his head. "Good luck with that."

"What, you're not going to help?"

"Do I look like I was born yesterday?" He turned and walked off, leaving Emma and Churchill alone in the moat.

"At least close the gates so he can't get out!" She yelled after him as he disappeared around the corner. She was rewarded with a grunt. When she turned back Churchill was watching her intently.

"How'd you get out, anyway?"

The gelding swished his tail.

"Right." Emma stood there, lead shank in hand, looking at the errant horse. If Churchill didn't want to be caught, it wasn't likely he'd let her approach.

Finally deciding on a course of action, Archer leaned against the stone wall, crossed her arms and stared off at the other side of the moat. Pulling out the apple she'd stuffed in her pocket, Emma took a bite.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Churchill's ear flick forward at the sound. She made a big deal of biting on the apple as noisily as possible. Churchill stood back, swishing his tail and watching her.

Emma chewed thoughtfully on her apple. Although she'd stopped arguing with Rick, she had a feeling he knew she hadn't given up yet. When the crews went out to search for Daryl, she'd seen a few nervous glances sent her way. They were expecting her to pull something.

They couldn't keep their guard up for long though. If she played along, sooner or later, she'd have her chance.

_Speaking of letting your guard down_… Churchill, too tempted by the delicious treat, had been casually making his way over to her.

When he was close enough, he stretched out his neck to sniff at her. She held the apple close to her body so he couldn't just nab it out of her hands. The gelding took a few more steps, placing his head right by her body. When he lipped at the apple, Emma snapped the lead line onto his halter.

"Sucker." Emma led the beast back to the stables. Just like Churchill, she would wait them out.

-{O}-

As luck would have it, the stable was empty when she brought Churchill in. The sun was beginning to set and night watch would be on the wall soon. Emma leaned against the stall door and went over her options.

She'd never move fast enough on foot, cars were too easy to track. With Churchill she could follow the game trails, cut across fields and hide in the wooded areas. He'd also offer her some protection from walkers.

If Daryl was hurt, she couldn't get him back without help. Emma looked skeptically at Churchill as he overturned his feed bucket with a hoof. Churchill would probably carry Daryl if she kept a firm rein on him.

Emma rubbed her eyes. She was tired, but experience told her adrenaline would buy her a few more hours. She was still in her bloodied paddock boots and breeches. The outfit was serviceable enough for what she had in mind, but the walkers might smell the blood. She'd need some walker camo fast.

The clock on the stable wall told her it was very close to shift change. That would be her best time to get escape. She'd need to work fast if she was going to get Churchill's equipment on in time.

Emma wondered idly how to get the gates open as she entered the tack room. She left the lantern off so as not to tip her hand. She peered into the darkened room and frowned.

Something was definitely off.

Emma's eyes made out the familiar shadows of the brushes, blankets and armor. Aside from a few pads, the saddle racks were empty. So were the bridle hooks.

"Goddamn fucking Sal." He'd hidden her equipment.

All of it.

-{O}-

Archer returned to her quarters more frustrated than ever. A soft knock at the door interrupted her pacing. "Yes?"

"It's us. Can we come in?" Michael's voice.

"We bring tea!" Joel chirped.

"And chocolate!" Michael added.

"Chocolate?" Emma blinked as Michael opened her door.

"See?" Michael hobbled into the room on his crutches with a bag slung over his shoulder. He set it down on the small round table near the doorway. "I told you, chocolate is the secret password."

Joel followed, his brown hair clearly shower-damp, carrying three mugs of tea. "Are you sure? Tea is a balm for the soul you know."

"No." Emma peered into the bag, spotting a familiar gold box. "It was the chocolate. Oh my God, how did you get this?"

"From the stores." Michael's grey eyes smiled, taking Daryl's seat at the table. Joel shoved a mug in Emma's hand and passed one to Michael.

"Does Sheila know you have this?" Emma opened up the box and popped a Godiva chocolate truffle into her mouth. It was a bit stale, but still delicious.

"It's not from the main supplies. This was in the infirmary stores." Joel set his mug down and popped out the door, returning with the rocking chair Emma kept outside.

Emma frowned. She'd made a covert trip to the medical stores earlier and hadn't noticed any gold boxes. "Why the hell are you keeping chocolate there?"

Joel shrugged. "It's medicinal."

Sensing she wasn't likely to get a straight answer Emma abandoned her questioning and plunked herself down in her chair. "Are you two my sitters then?"

Joel raised an eyebrow at Michael as he pulled the rocking chair up to the table and sat down. Michael retrieved a stack of cards from his bag. "Think of us as a distraction." He shuffled the cards.

"I don't need distraction." She frowned, sipping at her tea.

"Now now," Joel chided. "We brought you chocolate and tea. You're obligated to entertain us."

"I am?" She raised her eyebrow at Joel.

Michael dealt out the deck. "Yes, you are. We'll keep it simple. Crazy eights?"

"Crazy eight countdown." Joel decided. "Let's go for a long game."

"Fine." Emma sipped at her tea and picked up her cards. It was essential to her plan that she not be a giant pain in the ass. If she acted like she was up to something, they'd throw her in the jail cells.

So she sat back and played cards, participating in the inane chatter of close friends.

In time, as it often did between Michael and Emma, the conversation turned to horses. Joel rolled his eyes, he'd long ago given into their obsession with riding. It had been what had formed Emma's friendship with Michael.

Emma played an eight. "Spades. How are Carl's lessons going?"

Michael had been teaching the young man how to ride for several months. "He's doing well, still a bit behind the vertical but he's pretty solid."

Emma played the queen of spades, forcing Michael to pick up. "I saw you've moved him onto Black, is that working out?"

Michael reordered the cards in his hands. "Yes, they get along. He wants to learn to jump now."

Emma's brow furrowed, Michael had never learned to jump horses. "How are you going to teach that?"

"Actually," her friend leaned back in his chair. "I was hoping you'd help?"

Emma tried very hard to sound indifferent. "Sure. When?"

"Come out with us tomorrow." Michael tossed a card on the table. "Miss a turn."

Emma yawned. "Sure, tomorrow."

Joel's cognac colored eyes strayed to her. "Drink you tea before it gets cold."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes mom."

-{O}-


	5. Just try and stop me

Chapter 5

Just try and stop me

When she awoke, it took thirty seconds before Emma remembered that Daryl was gone. The bed still smelled of him. She'd spent the night hugging his pillow to her chest.

Archer was surprised that she had slept at all. In fact, by the amount of light coming in the window she was pretty sure she'd overslept. She was probably late for Carl's lesson.

Her eyes narrowed as she spied the three chairs arranged around the small table in her room. Emma was willing to bet that Joel had put something in her tea. She scowled, but had to admit she felt much better this morning after a good night's sleep.

It was important that she maintain a clear head. She needed to be ready for any opportunity to escape.

When she put on her usual breeches and t-shirt in the morning, she made sure to stick to colors well suited to creeping around the woods. Emma added a sweater, tied around her waist by the sleeves. She didn't normally wear her riding boots unless she was actually going out of the walls, but she made sure to put them on today.

They were her lucky boots, after all, and she needed all the luck she could get.

She grabbed a quick bite in the kitchen before heading out to the stables. The horses had already been cared for and Carl was readying Black for his lesson. She gave him a quick greeting before helping Michael with Tank.

Although Black and Tank's equipment had reappeared, Churchill's was still missing.

_Goddamn Sal._

Michael gave Carl's lessons outside the walls on the plains surrounding Fort Charles. Archer helped Michael mount up and followed the pair of riders out on foot.

There were many raised eyebrows as she ventured out beyond the wall but no one stopped her. It wasn't likely she would be able to make a run for it anyway, Michael insisted on setting up the jumps close to Fort Charles' walls.

Given their recent run-in, they had extended the pike lines to barricade the main road to the gate.

Emma looked out across the plain. There was no way she'd make over the blockade and into the tree line on foot without being caught. There were, however, two perfectly good horses out there with her.

Unfortunately they were currently being ridden. Emma turned her attention back to Carl. "You're falling behind the vertical again, sit up straighter."

Carl straightened his back for a few minutes, before letting his shoulders slump forward. _He's going to fall on his ass if he takes a fence like this._ She pursed her lips and looked over at Michael who was shaking his head.

Tank's ear flicked back when her rider spoke. "We need to fix his posture." Michael took one hand off the reins and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I had a coach that put a broomstick between my elbows once to straighten me out."

Emma eyed Michael's staff. If she could get a weapon, she'd be a lot closer to escaping. "What about that?"

Michael eyed her suspiciously. "Uh, I think I'll hold onto it."

To hide her disappointment she turned back to Carl. He was leaning too far back in the saddle again. "We could shorten up his stirrups to give him a wider base of support."

"Are you sure?" Michael frowned.

"Yeah. He'll need shorter stirrups for jumping anyway. He might as well get used to them now."

"Well, you're the expert." Michael didn't seem overly suspicious. "Carl, come over. We're going to fix your stirrups."

Carl brought Black over near Tank and Emma moved in. It was entirely possible for a rider to shorten their own stirrups. Years of being in a therapeutic riding program had accustomed Michael to seeing them adjusted by another person on the ground. It was the opportunity Emma had been waiting for.

Emma had Carl lift his leg forward over the front of the saddle so that she had access to the buckles underneath the saddle flap. She adjusted the stirrup leathers to a length more suited to her than Carl. When she was on Black's far side, where Michael couldn't see her, she also loosened the girth.

She prayed that Sal wasn't watching too closely from the wall.

"Okay, Carl." Emma stepped back. "Give it a go."

Carl looked uncomfortable as he moved the horse out into a trot. Michael pointed it out but Emma shrugged it off. "Give him a minute to get used to it."

It took several minutes and a few schooling figures for the saddle to slide off to the side. It happened when Carl was taking Black around a corner; he slid right off and hit the ground.

Black, being the good horse that he was, came to a halt and waited for his rider.

Emma got there as soon as Carl hit the ground. She calmly adjusted the saddle back into the proper position and tightened the girth. When Carl had dusted himself off, he made his way back to the gelding just as Emma swung up into the saddle.

Wasting no time, she urged Black into a gallop and headed for the pike-lines.

"EMMA!" Michael screamed. "STOP!" She heard Tank thunder along behind her, but the big mare wasn't fast enough to keep up with the nimble gelding.

There was yelling and screaming coming from the walls of Fort Charles. Emma ignored it as she steered Black for a section of fence that was slightly lower than the rest. Five strides out she reined her horse back onto his haunches and steadied his pace so she didn't loose the take off spot.

The jump wasn't pretty, but they made it over. Once on the other side Emma urged Black towards the trails and paths that ran along the Canal.

-:{O}:-

The door creaked open and two men came in bearing a lantern. Daryl squinted at the bright light. Looking around, he took in the tile walls of what had to be a school bathroom. Looking up, Daryl could see that his arms were tied to either side of a stall door. The place reminded him of the bathrooms where scraggly kids got beat on by bullies at school.

One of the men looked like a shorter version of Merle. Daryl decided to name him Shorty. He spoke first. "Willya look at that, sleeping beauty's awake."

"Fuck you." Daryl spat.

"I bet you'd like that." Shorty grabbed a handful of Daryl's hair and tilted his head back. "Tell me where the rest of your people are and I might not kill you."

_Aw fuck,_ Daryl thought, _this is gonna hurt._ "I ain't tellin' you shit."

Shorty raised an eyebrow and turned back to the dark haired fellow behind him. "Khan you want to take the first swing?"

Khan smirked, and leaned back against the wall. "He's all yours, John."

John smiled.

_*crack*_ Daryl heard the hit to his ribs in his ears. It was followed by a goddamn creepy wheezing sound. It took Daryl a moment to figure out that the noise was comin' from him. _Shit._ He thought. _This is gonna suck._

"How many people in your group?" John pulled Daryl's head up again by his hair. "Ten? Fifteen?" He peered into Daryl's eyes. "You got any women there?"

_Emma._ Daryl's nostrils flared involuntarily and John's eyes brightened. "Our boy here's got some pussy back home."

_*thud*_ Another blow snapped Daryl's head back. _Jesus-fuckin-christ_

"Come on now." John's voice was lower. "No pussy's worth protecting that much. Give 'em up and we'll go easy on you."

Daryl closed his eyes and pictured his Emma. He remembered the way she rode out on Churchill to thump walkers. He saw her washing her hair at the beach in the summer, the sun glinting off her golden skin. He remembered the hungry look in her eyes the first time he fucked her.

_Fuckit._ There were some things worth protecting.

"Where are they?" John's face was inches from Daryl.

Daryl spat in John's eye, it came off a little bloody.

"You sonofabitch." _*crack*_

-{O}-

When Emma reined Black to a halt in front of the door to Cherry house she knew she had only minutes to spare.

Her friends would know she'd come here first. They'd be in the cars already, driving down the roads to head her off.

She tied Black's reins to the railing of the porch and raced inside. In the basement she pulled the Tylenol three out of the apple press and stuffed it into the backpack she'd retrieved from the front hall closet. She nabbed the bandages and suture kit that had been hidden under the loose board in the bottom step. Lastly she retrieved the Pistol that was duct taped to the crossbeam along with some ammo.

Emma was a spectacularly bad shot, but the enemy didn't know that.

From the barn, she grabbed twine, rope, horse feed and water bottles. Shoving it all into her over burdened backpack she pulled herself back onto Black and turned him back down the canal route. She was still within earshot when the cars arrived.

Emma urged Black into a gallop and didn't look back.

-:{O}:-


	6. The Burbs

Chapter 6

The Burbs

Emma led Black by the reins as night fell. Her people would expect her to hole up for the night, but Emma stayed on the move. She was used to travelling the area alone, having spent many weeks out searching for other survivors. Emma knew the area well and used that to her advantage.

She came to a familiar bridge and halted, shifting from one foot to the other. The previous year she and Gordie had been ambushed by a couple who were intent on taking them back to their group. Before walkers descended on them, providing an opportunity for escape, they had been headed this way.

It wasn't too far off from the town where Rick's group had been ambushed. It was also in line with the parts depot she and Daryl had found disturbed. The three locations all seemed to line up along Highway 21.

To the south, there'd be nothing but farmland and trees. She was pretty familiar with that area. But the North…

…she was less familiar with.

Praying she was right, Emma turned Black North on the rail road tracks that ran parallel to the highway. _This could all just be a wild goose chase,_ she thought, _but I have to try._

-:{O}:-

She came up to a subdivision at dawn. Black was exhausted and so was she. She chose a house on the outskirts with a large garage and fenced in yard. After ensuring the garage was clear she led Black inside through the side door and closed it behind her.

Shrugging off the backpack, she pulled out a few handfuls of feed for Black before going into the house using the access door inside the garage. The house was empty and there were signs it had been raided, although not recently. Pulling a large pot out from under the sink, she filled it with water for Black.

When he was settled, she pulled a lawn chair down from the rafters in the garage and curled up for a nap.

-:{O}:-

The sound of a car moving down the street pulled her out of her slumber. She made it to the road in time to see it head north and turn left. It wasn't one of theirs.

Packing light, she refreshed Black's water and feed and barricaded him back inside the garage. Emma bit her lip. If something happened to her, he would die horribly.

_Not gonna happen. _

With renewed resolve she made her way through the backyards of the houses, in the direction she'd seen the car go. The subdivision was very new and all the houses had tall wooden fences. This isolated the walkers and made them easier for her to pick off. It was a hell of a lot of work to jump the fences, but Emma felt safer staying off the streets in daylight.

It took her a little while to locate the car she'd seen. She spotted it through a backyard gate across the street from the school it was parked at.

Big letters on the building identified it as 'Deifenbaker Public School'. She could see a herd of walkers had gathered at one end of the fenced in school yard, bordered on one side by a wood lot. There were houses backing onto the parking lot that stretched along the side of the building. She could conceal herself in either place.

Emma turned away from the school and sat with her back to the gate. In the very least, she had found other survivors. She pursed her lips, it was time to do what she did best.

Watch.

-:{O}:-


	7. Observations

Chapter 7

Observations

Emma decided to set up in one of the houses adjacent to the parking lot. The double car garage wasn't empty, but she thought that she'd be able to squeeze Black in past the car. She decided to move the lawn furniture into the house to make room in the garage for the horse.

It didn't take long.

She spent the rest of the daylight hours watching the school. There was some movement in the front offices, but she couldn't make out numbers.

When night fell she retrieved the horse and her gear, moving them to her new location next to the school. Once Black was settle she waited for the early hours of the night, knowing her subjects would be less awake then.

-{O}-

She loosened the fence boards and slipped into the parking lot. Keeping low, she made her way along the perimeter of the school, peeking inside the windows. She couldn't lay eyes on the hallways, but the classrooms seemed empty.

That made sense. The interior of the school would be safer than the classrooms. No windows, no access.

Cautiously, she made her way over to the front offices. There she found signs of life. She could hear two people arguing, but the voices were too muffled by the windows to make out what they were saying. She risked a peek in the window, there were forms lying around the office. The only movement came from two people wrestling against a desk.

She cringed, looking away. _That wasn't wrestling._

_What was it they said? _The people who'd robbed her and Gordie at the canal. _Something about wanting to have another woman around for…._

Emma shook her head. There were other women in the world. The presence of one here didn't necessarily mean she'd found that group.

Having seen all that she could see from the windows, she made her way over to the cars. They'd left the keys in the ignition, which made it easy for her to search the vehicles.

What she found in the back of the blue sedan made her blood run cold.

The Horton. She'd recognize it anywhere.

There was blood on it too, and on the inside of the trunk. _They put my Daryl in a goddamn trunk._

-:{O}:-

Emma spent the next day scouring the neighborhood for supplies. It was easy to find what she was looking for. The bits of brightly colored paper, plastic and ribbon she needed were not something usually scavenged for.

After dark, she set off a car alarm down the street from the school. As predicted, there was a flurry of activity, four people jumped into one of the cars and headed off in the direction of the sound.

When she was sure it was unguarded, she crept in the front door. The place smelled of walker, there were bodies everywhere. It looked like the group hadn't been there very long or were exceptionally lazy.

_Either way, advantage Archer._ She thought.

She did a quick scan of the offices. It looked like most of their equipment was in there. She could see bottles of water, booze and tins of food. Archer counted six sleeping bags.

_No sign of Daryl,_ she frowned. _Then again, I didn't really expect this to be easy._

Hastily she withdrew a handful of pills from her pocket and dumped half of them into an open bottle of vodka and crushed the other half into a bag of coffee grounds. She made sure to replace everything exactly as she found them.

The noise of the gunfire died down, they'd be back soon. Emma headed into the library and did a quick scan of the aisles to confirm that none of the walkers were moving. Satisfied, she hid herself under a couple of decomposing corpses to wait for her plan to take effect.

-:{O}:-

"Fucking deadheads." A gruff voice sounded as the library door opened. Archer couldn't see anyone from her angle. "Waste of goddam ammo if ya ask me."

"Fine. Let's get this over with." A female voice. "Where do you want it?"

"I want you to suck me off, bitch." He was mad. She heard a slap and woman yelp. "If you don't suck me off real good Imma gonna hafta fuck you in the ass again."

"Okay, okay, okay." The woman sounded compliant. "Don't get all pissy."

She heard a zipper being undone and the wet sounds of lapping. "Oh yeah." The man groaned. "Fuck that cock, Dike."

It didn't last long. She heard the man come with a deep groan.

"That all?" The woman's voice.

"Good for now." He panted.

"You'd better get another bitch in here. I'm tired of being the only pussy for you guys to fuck with."

"Not my fault the bitch ran off."

"Why don't you just fuck the redneck?" The woman snapped back.

"Why don't you?"

"I like girls."

"That makes two of us."

She heard the door open again. The exchange should have made her blood run cold, but it didn't. _Daryl,_ she thought, _He's alive._

-:{O}:-


	8. Freak out later

Chapter 8

Freak out later

When it had been quiet for a few hours, Emma removed herself from the corpses she'd been hiding with. She crept to the library door and opened it slightly, listening for signs of motion.

She heard soft snoring from the direction of the office. Taking careful steps, she move out of the library and headed down the hall. Daryl had to be somewhere in the interior of the building.

She checked the gym first, coming up empty. There was no-one in the locker rooms or adjacent washrooms either. There was a fire-exit plan posted on the wall in the gym. She spotted a couple of places that had potential and started checking them one by one.

The Janitor's closet and office were empty. She was headed towards the washrooms closest to the office when she heard movement up the hallway.

Thinking fast, she lay on the floor near a cluster of corpses and held her breath.

Two men came walking by. "This coffee is shit."

"It's still coffee."

"What's the plan, Khan?"

"Fuck if I know. He's not giving up his base. John beat on him and he didn't say squat."

"We could try cutting off his fingers or something…"

"You've seen too many spy movies." Khan walked into the washroom near Emma, while the other stood outside. His flashlight panned across her face as he lit up a cigarette. She resisted the urge to cringe.

Khan came back out. "Still out."

"Crap. Do we stand guard or what?"

"Screw it Akhil, I'm going back to bed."

"Think I might hit up the Stacy. Do you think she's awake?"

"She was hittin' the booze pretty hard. You'd better do her fast and get back here. Someone's gotta guard the door."

As they walked off down the hall, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. When she was sure they were far enough, she crept into the bathroom.

Daryl was strung by his arms over the top of the stall wall. He was covered in blood and bruises. "Daryl?" She whispered, checking his pulse. It was steady although his breathing was ragged.

She had to work quickly.

Emma used her knife to cut Daryl's restraints and caught him as he fell forward into her arms. She lowered him to the ground. "Daryl, wake up."

His eyes snapped open and he pulled away from her, panicked.

_No wonder, I'm covered in walker_. "Easy, Daryl, It's me. Emma."

"Em?" His voice was dry and raspy. "Ya smell like shit."

"Yeah." Emma fought back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. "You don't smell like roses either."

"The fuck took you guys so long?" Daryl struggled to get his feet underneath him.

She helped him stand, draping one arm over her shoulder. "We've got to go. How mobile are you?"

"I c'n walk, I think." He was moving slowly, his free arm clutching his ribs.

"Okay, we need to get out of here." She led him out of the washroom to the closest classroom. She set Daryl down under the teacher's desk so he couldn't be seen from the hallway and headed to the window farthest from the door. It was easy enough to open and she cut away the screen with her knife.

She heard Daryl groan a little. Emma's eyes narrowed. She had to act fast if she wanted to go through with her plan. Removing the items she'd scavenged earlier she disappeared into the hallways of the school.

-{O}-

Errand completed, Emma returned to find Daryl where she'd left him. "Daryl, can you climb out the window?" She asked as she brought him over to their exit.

He nodded.

She scurried out the window as quickly as she could. Turning back to help pull Daryl through the opening. He hissed as his ribs jammed against the windowsill.

"Sorry!" She winced.

"S'okay." Daryl stood again, panting hard. He looked back and forth along the school yard. "Where's Rick?"

Emma bit her lip. "Come on, we have to move!" She put his arm around her and headed towards the loose boards in the fence. She led Daryl straight to garage where she had hidden Black.

"Hold it." Daryl heaved, as they got into the garage. "Need a minute."

Emma rummaged in her pack for a water bottle and gave it to Daryl. "Drink."

He took it and swallowed it down as he scanned the garage. His blue eyes narrowed when they settled onto Black. He flicked them back to Emma and looked her up and down.

"Shit." Understanding shone in his eyes. "Rick ain't here, is he?"

She avoided his eyes and busied herself with checking Black's tack. The Horton she had retrieved was strapped on the side of the saddle. "We've got to go. Can you mount up or do I need to help you?"

"Em..." Daryl's voice was low.

"Freak out later, Daryl." She turned back having found her resolve. "Now we run."

-:{O}:-


	9. Shut up and run

Chapter 9

Shut up and run

In the end, she'd had to haul Daryl up onto the hood of the car in order to get him onto Black. He objected when she tied his legs to the girth so he wouldn't fall off, but she shot him a nasty look and did it anyway.

It was a good thing she did too, as he passed out after an hour on the move.

The gelding shied when she felled a biter that had seen through their walker camo. She took the opportunity to add fresh gore to the horse's flanks. His eyes rolled when she smeared his neck with the foul smelling stuff. "Look at it this way," She told the gelding. "at least you're not playing bait."

Emma quickly checked Daryl's vitals before continuing down the railway they had been walking on. It would lead her to the canal, and from there it was a straight shot to the fortress.

On the horizon she could see signs that dawn was approaching. She would have to find a place to stop soon. Both her and Black needed to rest.

In the distance she spotted what looked like an old farmhouse.

It would have to do.

"Come on Black." She pulled on his reins. "Just a little bit further and we can both have a nap."

-:{O}:-

Daryl was conscious enough to get down off Black and settled into a bed of a straw. Emma let Black loose in the barn and headed into the farmhouse for supplies. She came back with some heavy blankets and towels.

With the sun up, she was able to see the extent of Daryl's injuries. She'd brought in two pails of water from the well outside and gave one to Black, the other she set beside Daryl. She cut away his shirt and set herself the task of cleaning his wounds. In addition to cuts and bruises there were a few nasty looking gashes on him. It looked like he'd been in a knife fight.

He was also very pale.

She frowned, wishing that she'd paid closer attention to Joel's work. When they got back to the fort she'd talk to Joel about expanding on her medical knowledge.

Digging through her bag she pulled out a stitching kit, some antiseptic soap and bandages. There were painkillers in there too. She set those aside for when Daryl woke up.

He twitched a few times as she cleaned him up, but mercifully stayed unconscious.

When she was working on a deep gash on his arm his eyes snapped open. "Where?"

"In a barn. I'm not exactly sure where, just somewhere between where I found you and the fort." She placed a hand on his head, he felt a little warm. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit." Daryl tried to sit up but she pushed him back down.

"Just stay down, okay? I'm trying to clean this cut."

Daryl looked down at his arm. "Gonna need stitches."

She nodded in agreement. "five or six I think. I'd like to do it now, if that's okay."

"Do it."

Emma grabbed the kit and started stitching. Daryl was stoic while she worked. It had to hurt, but he wasn't letting on. Emma had a few put in last winter and had cried like a baby.

Daryl was just way more bad-ass than she was.

"There." She tied off the last one. "I'm sure Joel could've done better, but I did my best."

Daryl looked at her handiwork. "Not bad. Gonna hafta getcha ta darn my socks when we get back."

"Ha ha." She rolled her eyes. "Funny Dixon, real funny."

He reached a hand up to push a stray strand out of her face. "Missed ya."

"I missed you too." She leaned down and placed a delicate kiss on his battered face.

"Where's Churchill?"

"Back at the fort." Emma passed him the painkillers and a water bottle. He downed them without question.

Daryl winced as she worked on a particularly deep part of the cut. "Fuckin' shit."

"Sorry! I'm almost done."

"Goddamn fuckers." He shut his eyes tightly. "Coulda killed that shit for brains if his goddamn punk-ass friend didn't sucker punch me from behind."

"Is that what happened?" She tried to distract him as she started stitching the wound.

"What didja hear?"

"Rick said they ambushed you in town. Somewhere in the gunfire they lost track of you."

"Tried to get 'em from behind." Daryl's lips were tight. "Almost had 'em too."

"Is that how you got cut?"

"Didn't see th'asshole behind the car, came at me with a knife. Had'em pinned when punk-ass hit me from behind. Woke up at the school."

"What did they want to know?"

"Wanted our base. Told 'em ta fuck'emselves."

"I can see that." _Boy did they pick the wrong person to interrogate._

"Rick ain't comin', is he?"

Emma froze, keeping her eyes on the stitching. "Only one left to go."

"Emma answer me."

"I'm sure Rick will be here soon." She lied.

"Where's Churchill?" Daryl sat up on his elbows as she put away the stitching kit. "Why didja leave without th'goddamn warhorse of yers?"

"Black is faster."

"Bullshit." Daryl's eyes caught hers. "Don't fuckin' lie ta me."

"You were missing. Rick was planning something but they wouldn't let me help." She spoke quietly "Fucking Sal hid all my tack."

"Yeah, 'cause they didn't want ya goin' off on yer own." Daryl's voice was low. "You're no goddam good in a gunfight, Em."

"Right, poor weak little Emma." She spat. "Can't shoot worth shit."

"Hey, that's not…"

"Screw you Daryl. Screw Rick. Screw everybody. When I went missing you went out to find me. You didn't ask permission and no one tried to stop you." She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. "Hell, Rick even went WITH you. What happens when you go missing Daryl? Don't I have a right to look for you? NO. I get told to sit back and let the big boys handle it." She stood up. "To HELL with that, Daryl. That's sexist bullshit."

"Fuck that Emma. Rick's tryin' ta protect ya." Daryl practically growled. "What if ya got caught? Ever think o'that? Those fucker's a raped ya, beat ya, then raped ya again. How's that gonna help anybody?"

She threw her hands up in the air. "Look around, Daryl. I didn't get caught. We got out. We're going to make it if I have to carry your ass home myself."

"Ya shoulda waited."

"It's not in me to do NOTHING Daryl."

Daryl sighed and leaned back to stare up at the rafters. It was a measure of how weak he was that he didn't continue arguing.

She finished bandaging up his wounds in silence, avoiding his gaze. When she was done she tucked a blanket around his shoulders. "Sleep. We're going back on the road again in a few hours."

"They're gonna come lookin' for us." He said quietly.

"I know." She lay next to him in the hay. "I think I bought us some time though."

"How?"

"Remember Roger the Rapist?"

"Asshole."

"Yeah. I stole his roofies from supply." She closed her eyes and breathed in Daryl's scent. She'd missed him so much. "If any of them drank coffee or booze in the last 12 hours I'm guessing they'll be fucked up for a week."

"No shit?" Daryl chuckled. "Girl's got skills after all."

"Shut up and sleep."

-:{O}:-

Emma slept longer than she expected, but it had been a hard twenty four hours and the sleep helped her focus. The sun was low on the horizon when she had Daryl loaded up onto Black tying a blanket around him for warmth. They set out at a walk at first, breaking into a jog once she was reasonably sure that Black was warmed up.

She knew the pace was hard on Daryl, but she needed to put as much distance between her and his kidnappers as possible. Eventually she found if she moved fast enough, Black could lope along beside her. That made things easier on Daryl as the gait was smoother.

Still, Emma made sure to dose Daryl every four hours with painkillers.

They kept along the train tracks until she came within sight of the canal. There she cut off the tracks and went into the brush, hoping that would confuse their trail. When it was dark, she moved Black back out onto the roads and picked up the pace again.

It was dangerous moving so quickly out in the open. The sounds of Black's hooves attracted walkers. She had a hard time controlling the gelding and dealing with the ones that got close. For the millionth time she wished for Churchill. He could be counted on to defend himself.

At one point in the evening she gave up and blindfolded Black in order to stop him from trying to dart away.

When dawn came, they settled into a garage attached to a gas station. Daryl woke up briefly to drink and take another painkiller before falling asleep in the backseat of the car she placed him in.

She cleared an area for Black to wander loose before finding a corner to sleep.

-:{O}:-

A crashing sound jolted her out of troubled dreams. Heart racing she leapt to her feet and scanned the garage. Black had knocked some parts off a table and was busy inspecting them. With a sigh of relief she went to remove the components from his reach and give him a few handfuls of feed.

Next she checked on Daryl. She looked inside the backseat of the car and saw that he had shrugged off his blanket during the night. There was some fresh blood seeping through one of the bandages on his side.

"Daryl?" She opened the door by his head. "Daryl I need to look at your side again. I think the stitches might be ripped."

He didn't move. She placed her hand on his forehead. He was hot and sweaty.

His hand shot up and clenched her wrist, she yelped at the harshness of his grip. Daryl's eyes focused on her. "Em?" He released his grip.

"Yeah, it's me." She pushed in beside him and peeled back the suspect bandage. "You tore a stitch, but it's not bad. I'll replace the bandage."

Daryl blinked blearily up at the ceiling of the car. "Where are we?"

"Not too far from home now. It's a straight shot up the canal to the fort now." She mentally did the calculations in her head. They might make it in a day, she wasn't sure how fast Daryl could travel.

"Where's Rick?"

Emma froze. "Sorry?"

"Where's Rick? Is he outside?"

She frowned and finished up with the bandage. "He's waiting for us. Come on, time to move." Come hell or high water, she needed to get Daryl home and fast.

-:{O}:-


	10. Close but no dice

Chapter 10

Close but no dice

Black picked up his pace as he recognized familiar surroundings. Emma had a hard time holding him back at a lope. He knew where he was and he wanted to get back to the barn.

It was daylight and Emma had risked following a road that ran parallel to the Canal in order to move quickly. The canal route had too many low hanging branches and she didn't want to risk Daryl getting hit.

He'd passed out as soon as she got him onto Black at the garage. Wanting to travel quickly, she tied Daryl's arms around Black's neck to ensure he didn't fall. It made him more secure in the saddle than he had been. She worried about what that position would do to any broken ribs, but speed was the priority today.

She was breathing so hard she almost didn't hear the car. The sound of Black's hooves clip-clopping on the dirt shoulder masked the sound of the engine's approach. Shading her eyes from the sunlight she peered at the car, recognizing the red dodge charger from the parking lot at the school. There was no doubt in Emma's mind that they had seen her.

"Damn."

She was in the middle of farm land and there wasn't enough brush for her to hide in. Emma wouldn't make it to the nearest building. Emma grabbed the pistol out of Black's saddle bag, and quickly tied the reins up over his head.

Grabbing Black's bridle, she pulled his big brown eye level with hers. "Run. Run home Black."

With a yell she gave the gelding a giant swat on his backside. She screamed at him until he turned tail and ran across a field, making a beeline to the fortress. Emma waited a second to make sure Black didn't slow down as he crossed into the next field, then she turned to run in the opposite direction as fast as her feet could carry her.

Given that she had been running all day along side Black, she knew she didn't have much in the tank to go off. She tripped over herself when she climbed the first fence and decided to dive between the boards of the next one. The dodge charger came to a screeching halt on the road behind her. She head car doors opening.

She glanced back, there were three men and they were following her. Emma ran for a stand of trees in between the fields, hoping to loose them there, or at least put something between her and the nasty looking rifle one of them was carrying.

"She's headed for the trees John!" That was Akhil, it seemed he hadn't drank the coffee afterall.

"Nowhere to run baby!" She recognized John's voice from the Library. "It'll go easier if you give up!"

She made it into the trees when she heard them open fire. Instinctively she ducked her head and ran low. Instead of continuing to run straight, she ran alongside the tree stand in adjacent field, heading for another line of brush.

Emma heard the men crashing through the foliage behind her, they were gaining. Adrenaline kept Emma moving as she reached the next patch of cover.

"Over there!" John yelled.

She didn't bother looking back, she just kept running. Emma crashed through another section of brush, too late realizing there was an old wire fence hidden under the vines, her foot caught on it and she was flung face first down into the dirt.

_Those fucker's a raped ya, beat ya, then raped ya again. _

Daryl's words rang in her head as she struggled to scramble free from the wire.

In the end, she was too late.

-:{O}:-


	11. Marksmanship

Chapter 11

Marksmanship

"Well, well, well boys. I think we've just landed ourselves a nice piece of ass to add to our collection." John was a stocky man with graying hair. His meaty hands stroked his chin thoughtfully as he looked her up and down.

Emma had recovered enough to get to her feet as they arrived. She held her pistol up, pointed at John's head. They didn't know she was a bad shot, so they kept their distance.

For the moment.

She walked backwards across the field, but the other two men were moving around to encircle her. John looked completely unconcerned.

"Now see here," He gave her a crooked smile. "You got something that we want. You give it to us, and everyone will be happy."

"Yeah." The third one was a skinny teenager with beady eyes. "Just give us a little taste of that pussy. We'll treat it real nice."

"Or," John walked forward casually. "If you like it rough, we can be accommodatin'."

Akhil was getting to the edge of her peripheral vision, the skinny kid was moving too close. She stepped back a bit faster. ""How about we all just part ways and nobody gets their head blown off?"

"Now, that's just not a choice." John's eyes raked up and down her body. "Mmm. I think I'm gonna like working you in. I bet you like it in the backside. I bet you're all nice and tight back there."

Emma decided right there to kill John if it was the last thing she did.

He advanced on her. Emma lost track of Akhil, she was sure he was behind her now. She was trapped.

"Come on baby." The teenager giggled gleefully. " Let's dance."

"Fuck that." Emma assumed the stance drilled into her by Rick and Costas and pulled the trigger.

She was absolutely flabbergasted when John dropped to the ground with a bullet smack in the middle of his forehead.

"ARCHER, DOWN!" Rick's voice ordered.

Emma dove for the dirt, covering her head. The ensuing gunfire was over quickly.

"Emma, you okay?" Rick crouched beside her to retrieve the pistol she'd dropped.

"Yeah, I think so." She looked up to see Carl and Gordie coming out of the bushes.

The former sheriff wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Did you find Daryl?"

Emma rolled onto her back. "Yeah. He was at a school. I got him out but when they found us I sent him off with Black."

"He's okay then?" Rick reached a hand down to help her up, she accepted it.

"I don't think so." Emma dusted her breeches off. "He was cut up and he had a fever. He wasn't conscious when I sent Black off with him. They ought to be at Fort Charles by now."

Rick nodded. "Okay, let's get back then. The car's this way."

"Good to have you back, Arch." Gordie slapped her back as she walked by. "Don't fucking leave like that again."

"You're such a charmer Gordie." She sniped back, eliciting a smile from the big brute. As they approached the car, Emma jogged up behind Rick. "Hey Rick?"

"Yeah?" He turned to look at her as he opened the car door.

"So, did I actually hit that guy or..."

Rick smiled and got into the driver's seat.

"I think you got the tree." Carl was less tactful than his father as he jumped into the back seat.

Emma climbed in after him. "Yeah, I thought so."

-:{O}:-


	12. The longest night

Chapter 12

The longest night

Black had indeed made it to the fort with Daryl still securely fastened to his back. When Emma arrived Daryl had already been brought up to the infirmary and Sal made it absolutely clear that Emma was not to go up there.

Instead, she paced at the bottom of the stairs leading to the infirmary while Sal and Sheila gave her an earful.

Sal was pissed. "You ever do that again and I swear I'll hogtie your ass."

"Do you have any idea how worried we were?" Sheila growled.

"It's not safe out there, especially not with rabid dogs like that." Sal spat, waving his hands about.

"… can't just go haring off whenever you feel like it. There are people here who care about you." Sheila crossed her arms and channeled the 'mom' look.

Sal stuck to the stink eye. "… oughtta ban you from the stables. You're goddamn lucky that Black didn't break a leg."

Where Sal threatened, Sheila stuck to guilt. "..ever think about how the rest of us would feel?"

"ENOUGH!" Emma threw up her arms and screamed at the top of her lungs. She was very sure the entire fort heard her. "STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!"

"Hey." Cap popped out of the kitchen when he heard Emma. "Calm down everyone."

"Fuck it." Emma cursed and took the stairs to the second level in twos. Gordie was waiting for at the infirmary door. "Let me by, Gordie."

"No fuckin' way Arch." He crossed his arms and barred her way. "Joel's orders."

"Screw Joel." She tried to push past Gordie but he didn't budge.

Emma growled. "GET. OUT. OF. MY. WAY."

Gordie's mouth drew a tight line. "No." He said simply.

That was when Emma snapped.

The stress of the last week finally caught up with her. Screaming she took a swing at Gordie's jaw. It landed with a satisfactory crunch.

"Goddamnit." Gordie rubbed his chin and Emma took the opportunity to dodge past him. Just as she laid a hand on the doorknob, Gordie swung her up over his shoulder and carried her away over his back.

"Put me DOWN Gordie!" She pounded her fists on his back.

He held her securely by her legs. "Arch you're fuckin' lucky I don't hit girls."

She screamed in frustration as he headed down the narrow stairs to the parade square below. Emma kept yelling all the way across the square. She was so busy carrying on that she didn't realize where he was heading until it was too late.

"Don't you dare!" She warned him. "GORDIE!"

He tossed her down unceremoniously onto the narrow bunk of the old cell and slammed the heavy wood door closed before she could stand.

"Let me out!" Emma ran to the door and peered out the small window as Gordie barred the door shut. "I swear I'm gonna KICK YOUR ASS Gordie!"

"You'll stay in there 'til you CALM THE FUCK DOWN!" Gordie yelled back as he disappeared out of her sight.

"Let me talk some sense into her." She heard Sal's voice down the hall.

"No fuckin' way." Gordie's voice was hard. "It was you and Sheila carryin' on that set her off. Nobody gets in here unless I say so."

There was quiet.

Gordie's voice again. "You got a problem with that?"

Emma screamed and cursed at Gordie, rattling off a number of colorful terms that would have made Daryl proud. He didn't answer back. No one did. She pounded on the door with her fists and kicked at it with the heel of her boots. Eventually she was so hoarse she couldn't scream anymore.

Exhausted and frustrated, she cried herself to sleep on the bunk.

-:{O}:-


	13. Paroled

Chapter 13

Paroled

She was awoken by the sound of her cell door creakin' open. Emma squinted at the flashlight that shone in the cell. She recognized Gordie's outline.

"You done yet, Arch?" He asked, his voice tired.

She sniffled a little, swallowing a smart ass remark. "Yeah."

He nodded. "You gonna hit me again?"

"Not today."

"Good enough." He turned around, leaving the door open behind him. "Come on, Joel says you can see Daryl now."

Emma scrambled to her feet and followed Gordie out into the square. It was dark. "What time is it?"

"Three-ish." Gordie yawned. "Didn't want to wake you, but I thought you might not be too happy if I didn't."

"Thank you, for waking me up." She climbed the stairs behind him. The throbbing in her knuckles reminded her of her earlier actions. "And I'm sorry for hitting you."

"No you're not." Gordie chuckled. "It doesn't matter anyway, you hit like a girl."

"Screw you."

"You wish."

Gordie left her at the door to the infirmary to find his own bunk. When she pushed inside she saw Daryl lying on one of the beds. Rick was sitting next to him on a chair, blocking Emma's view of his head and chest. Joel was standing at the foot of the bed with a worried expression on his face.

"How bad is it?" She knew it wasn't good.

Joel had dark circles under his eyes. "It looks worse than it is."

Emma's eyes widened as she closed in on Daryl and could see around Rick. "Oh God." Daryl was ghostly white and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His clothing had been removed and there was only a light cotton sheet over him.

Joel stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "He's alive. He lost a lot of blood and some of the wounds were infected."

"I tried to clean them…" She stammered.

"I know. You did good." Joel gave her a squeeze. "It must have started to take hold before you got there. I patched him up, gave him some antibiotics and Michael gave him some blood."

Emma nodded. "What can I do?"

Joel released her and stepped back. "Just stay with him, okay? Try to keep him still when he comes around."

Rick stood up and ceded his seat to her. She took it gratefully and scooted up to the bed so that she could hold Daryl's hand. Emma cringed at how pale it was in comparison to her own.

The former sheriff's voice was quiet when he spoke. "Emma, I need to know where you found him."

She didn't take her eyes off Daryl. "In a school."

"Where was the school?" Rick spoke carefully. "How many people were there?"

Emma's brain was fried. All she could think about was Daryl. "Do we have to do this now?"

Rick crouched down next to Emma. "It's important. They're a threat to us. Can you remember the name of the school? What town is it in?"

Emma dragged her eyes away from Daryl's face to look at Rick. "It was named after a prime minister… Deifenbaker? It was a grade school."

"Good. That's good." His eyes held hers captive. Emma wondered how Rick was able to do that. "Do you remember what town it was in? What street?"

"I…" She paused, trying to remember. "No, I don't remember. It was in a new subdivision. There were a lot of houses, but no offices or stores…It backed onto a woodlot."

"Okay. How did you get back? What route did you take?"

"I followed the canal to the tracks and went North. It was along highway 21."

"Okay." He nodded. "How many men were there at the school?"

"I don't know." She frowned. "I counted six sleeping bags, I saw two men, I heard another and saw a woman too. Two of them you killed in the field."

"What weapons did they have?"

Emma shook her head. "I don't remember. Guns... I don't know what kind or how many."

Joel stretched his arms above his head. "Rick I'm going to check on Michael then turn in. Will you stay here just in case?"

"Sure." The other man took a seat on the next cot over. "I'll come get you if there's anything."

As Joel left, Emma looked up at Rick, realizing that Daryl was the only patient in residence. "Where's Jean? Is he better?"

"He didn't make it." Rick's voice was quiet.

Emma turned her eyes back to Daryl's face. She would mourn her friend later. Right now, she just wanted to see Daryl live.

-:{O}:-


	14. You give me Fever

Chapter 14

You give me Fever

Emma had fallen asleep on her knees next to Daryl's cot. Her head cradled on her arms next to him. His muttering woke her up. "Daryl?" She blinked blearily, wondering what time it was.

"Hey sleepyhead." Michael was sitting at Joel's desk. "Long time no see."

She gave a weak smile at her friend. "Aren't you going to tell me off for running away?"

Michael shook his head. "If it had been Joel out there, I would've done the same thing."

"Thanks." Emma stood, stretching out her aching muscles. She wondered vaguely how much sleep she'd actually gotten. She felt wiped out. "Where's Rick?"

"He went to get see Costas about something."

She nodded. Daryl stirred again, drawing her attention. She thought she heard him say 'Merle' but she wasn't sure. She sat down on the bed next to him and reached a hand over to his brow. "Daryl? You in there?"

His eyes snapped open and a second later he clocked with a fist. She heard Michael call out as she was knocked backwards into the cot behind her.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME YOU ASSHOLE!" Daryl was yelling, she looked up and saw that his eyes were glassy. He was thrashing about on the bed.

"Daryl!" She scrambled back to his bed and tried to push him back down. He swung at her again but she dodged it. "Easy, Daryl, it's Emma. Just Emma. Settle down." His eyes were still unfocused. "Michael, get Joel!"

Michael grabbed his crutches and headed out the infirmary door for help. She heard him yelling outside.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" Daryl continued thrashing, she tried to pin his arms down but he was too strong. His hands found her throat and he started to squeeze. Emma stopped trying to pin him down and focused on trying to peel his fingers off her throat.

His hands were like a vice.

The world had started to close in on her when Glenn and Maggie burst into the room. Together they were able to pull Daryl off her. Joel arrived hot on their heels, followed shortly by Carl.

Someone pushed Emma out of the way, and she soon found herself being dragged back by Gordie. He lifted her up by the waist and sat her down on a bench outside the infirmary. It had all happened so quickly she was still gasping for air when Michael's face appeared before her. "Emma, you okay?"

She tried to speak, but it came out as a croak.

"Give her a minute." Gordie leaned back against the railing, arms crossed. There was a nice purple bruise along his jaw from where she'd hit him. "Let her get some air."

Emma drew in a few, long breaths and nodded.

"That's going to bruise." Michael cringed as his fingers brushed along Emma's cheekbone.

"Needs ice." Gordie sighed. "Come on Arch, let's get you some ice."

"But Daryl…" It came out hoarse. She could still hear him screaming inside.

"Let Joel handle it." Michael's voice was firm. "I don't think you should be in there."

"But…"

"Swear to God I'll dump your ass in the cell." Gordie was serious.

Emma was too exhausted to argue. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as Gordie marched her away from the infirmary.

"You're gonna eat and have a shower too." Gordie informed her. "You stink."

"Yes warden." She croaked.

-:{O}:-


	15. Confessions

Chapter 15

Confessions

Emma awoke fully dressed in her quarters with a blanket tossed over her. After showering she met Gordie in the kitchen where Sheila plied her with food. She wasn't entirely sure if she finished eating it. She must have fallen asleep at the table.

Rubbing the rest of sleep from her mind, she stood up and stretched while surveying the room. Daryl's extra crossbow was hung on the wall by the door. There were arrows sitting on the desk that were in mid-repair. Sighing, she scooped the arrows into a backpack with the necessary repair equipment. Going through Daryl's clothes, she added a soft short sleeved shirt and track pants that he often slept in.

She stepped out of their room and caught Michael sitting in the rocking chair she kept outside their door. He looked up from his book and gave her a weak smile. "Hey Em. You going to see Daryl?"

Emma had a pretty good feeling that she was being babysat. "Yeah, I thought I'd bring him a change of clothes and sit with him."

Michael nodded. She half expected him to stop her. "Brush your hair first, then go. You're a mess, Em."

Emma pursed her lips, deciding that maybe she could take a second for personal grooming. "Good idea." She ducked inside and stood in front of the dresser, quickly pulling a brush through her long unruly locks. When she looked at her reflection she froze mid-stroke.

Her skin was paler than normal, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes and the large purple bruise on the side of her face. She cringed. _No wonder they're babysitting me_.

She started to braid her hair back, but it showed off the bruise too much. She settled for leaving it down.

When she re-emerged, Michael had left. Emma hurried along the second floor balcony to the infirmary, she heard some low voices coming from inside. She opened the door and slipped into the room as quietly as possible. A screen had been pulled across Daryl's cot, blocking her view. Carl was sitting at the desk and Joel was leaning over him pointing at something on a slate.

"Hey." Emma said quietly, shifting from one foot to the other in the doorway. "Can.. Can I come back now?"

Both sets of eyes looked up at Emma, then back at each other.

Joel spoke first. "Of course you can." Turning back to the teen he pointed at the slate. "Try the equation again." Satisfied, Joel walked over to Emma. "Daryl's better, but he tore some stitches."

"Soo.." she paused, uncertain. "Did you stitch them back up?"

Joel's mouth drew a tight line. "We had to cauterize the wound."

"How…" Emma bit her lip. "Do you mean, like, with a hot poker?"

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We used a hot blade, and it looks good. His fever's going down."

"Oh God." Emma leaned back against the doorway. She'd seen a lot of burn marks and scars on Daryl. He didn't talk about it much, but she knew his childhood had been unhappy. She was certain that the process of cauterizing the wound had put Daryl into a special kind of hell.

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Were my stitches that bad? Is it my fault they tore?"

"No, Em." Joel's voice was soft and reassuring. "Your work was good. If he had stayed still then they would have been okay. It's not your fault."

She nodded, somewhat relieved. "Can I see him now?"

"He's sedated and tied to his bunk." Joel warned. "You can sit with him though. I think he'd like that."

Emma advanced on the cot, when she got behind the screen she saw that Daryl's body was covered with clean, white bandages. His arms had been tied down at the elbows to the bed with leather straps she recognized from the stables. There was a thick rope along his hips and more bindings across his knees. Some of the color had returned to his cheeks and his sleeping face bore a slightly troubled expression.

She leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on his brow. "Hey Dixon." Daryl gave no indication that he heard her. Sighing, she sat herself on the cot next to him and began work on the arrows. Emma was a terrible shot, but she had a lot of experience repairing arrows. Even Daryl had remarked on it. _"You fix 'em, I shoot 'em."_

-:{O}:-

The next day Emma found herself reading out loud to Carl and Daryl just after lunchtime

Having repaired all the arrows, Emma started reading Gone With the Wind to Daryl. When Carl came in for a visit he complained that Daryl wouldn't be keen on 'chicklit'. He'd given her a Batman book to read instead and settled in on the next cot to listen.

"The dark knight stole into the bedroom under the cover of night. Placing a gloved hand on Alfred's chest he leaned down and kissed him. Alfred awoke and the pair had passionate monkey sex." Emma closed the book.

As she suspected, both Daryl and Carl were sound asleep.

Voice hoarse from hours of reading, Emma decided to leave the infirmary and head down to the kitchen for a bite to eat.

As she closed the door quietly behind her, she heard the gates to the fort cranking. Either someone was coming in or someone was leaving. There didn't seem to be a lot of activity in the square and the sentries she saw seemed unconcerned. Emma shrugged it off and headed downstairs to the kitchens.

She was scooping out a bowl of soup out of Sheila's 'help yourself' cauldron when Rick, Glenn, and Gordie came in. She waved at them. "Hey, long time no see." It had been a while since she'd seen any of them, at least a day.

Gordie nodded and grabbed the bowl out of her hands. "Thanks Arch." He said, sitting down and digging into the food, a smirk on his face.

"You're an ass." She told him, grabbing another bowl.

"Don't I know it." He said between mouthfuls.

"Emma, can I speak to you a moment?" Rick held the door to her old bedroom off the kitchen open and inclined his head.

"Sure?" Puzzled, she walked past Rick into the room that was now a pantry. "What's up?"

Rick closed the door behind him as he walked in. "I wanted you to know that we found the school that they held Daryl in."

Emma's face drew a tight line. "Were they still there?"

Rick shook his head. "There were walkers inside. It looked like there were some fresh kills. It seems someone left all the doors leading to the yard open." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"I roofied them."

"What?"

"At the school. I put Roger's drugs in their booze and coffee grinds. I'm sure some of them drank the coffee. I think I heard them say someone was drinking the vodka too." She looked down. "And I left the doors open."

"That all?"

"No." She scuffed her toe on the floor. "I tied streamers to the door handles to catch the walker's attention."

Rick ran a hand down his face. "Remind me not to piss you off, Emma."

-:{O}:-


	16. You're a fine girl

Chapter 16

You're a fine girl

Daryl was aware of the pain before anything else. Swear to God, he was sore all over. Even his hair ached. The worst was on his side, a great big mother-fucking pain throbbed there. Fuck, it hurt.

"_And there's a girl in this harbor town, and she works layin' whiskey down."_

The next thing he was aware of was a soft voice singing a sad melody. He didn't know the song. The singer was quiet and unsure of herself.

"_They say 'Brandy, fetch another round'. She serves them whiskey and wine."_

_Fuuuck._ Daryl thought. _Whiskey'd be real good right now._ His eyelids were too damn heavy though. He wondered idly if they'd been glued shut. There was definitely something familiar about the voice.

"_The sailors say 'Brandy, you're a fine girl, what a good wife you would be.' "_

Emma. His Emma.

" '_Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea.' "_

Somehow he actually managed to get pry his eyes open. It was fucking hard, and they didn't open wide. Just a slit, really, but it was enough for him to see her. Her hair was down, hiding her face. She was working on something in her lap.

That was his Emma, always gettin' shit done.

"_Brandy wears a braided chain, made of finest silver from the North of Spain._"

She was in her breeches. He fuckin' loved her breeches. They were skin-tight and showed off every curve. They practically begged to be peeled off. He loved watching her take them off at night when she thought he wasn't lookin'. She did this little wiggle that did all kinds of things to him. If his face didn't hurt so goddamn much he'd a smiled.

"_A locket that bears the name of the man that Brandy loved."_

Daryl recognized the too-big shirt she wore as one of his. He always bitched at her when she wore his shirts… except when that was all she was wearing. Daryl was very okay with that.

He drew in a ragged breath and wondered if she was wearing her tall boots.

She stopped singing and looked over at him. He saw that she'd been polishing his boots. "Daryl?"

He wanted to speak, but his tongue was all thick in his mouth. His eyes slid shut, lazy bastards.

He felt Emma lean over him, her long locks brushing over his chest as she put a hand on his forehead. She smelled of soap'n leather. He'd never met any woman that had that particular scent. It was girly, but with a toughness to it. Just like his Emma.

"Daryl? You awake?"

_Right here Emma._ He drew another deep breath and winced. _Just gimme a sec._

Her fingers gently combed through his hair, her nails slightly scraping his scalp. Just the way he liked it. "You're safe, Daryl. Everything's okay."

_What the fuck?_ He thought that was an odd thing for her to say. Daryl managed to flick his lazy-ass eyes open, wider this time. Her face was inches away from his. He looked right into those big, beautiful eyes. They were almost always smiling, like they knew something he didn't.

"Welcome back Dixon." She whispered.

His eyes left hers and settled on the purple bruise on Emma's face.

He decided right there that he was gonna hafta kill somebody.

It must've showed on his face, because she sat up. "It's not a big deal. It's already much better." She sighed. "Hold on, I'm going to get Joel. You stay awake, okay?"

_You mean it looked worse before?_ Daryl let his eyes fall closed as she headed for the door. _Fuckin' bastard's dead, he just don't know it yet._

Speaking of bastards, Daryl remembered he had a couple of punk asses on his list right now. He'd fuck up the guy that hurt Emma first, then he'd get the asshole that beat the ever living shit out of him. _What was that fucker's name? John?_

The door opened, signaling Emma's return.

"Are you sure he woke up?" Joel's voice. Daryl had decided long ago that Joel was an okay guy. "Maybe you just imagined it."

"I told you, he looked right at me." He felt Emma's hand on his head again. "Come on Dixon, open your eyes."

Not wanting to let his girl down, he pried his eyes open again and was rewarded with her smile.

"Okay Emma, give me a second here." Joel nudged Emma away. "Get him a glass of water, he's probably parched." The doc set 'bout poking and prodding, but Daryl's eyes tracked Emma as she went to get that drink.

Hard to imagine that a few days ago he was sure he'd never see her again.

He kept his eyes glued to hers when she returned with the water. She slid a hand behind his head and lifted it off the pillow slightly. He loved the way her fingers laced through the back of his hair. She did that other times too…when they were alone in the dark.

She tipped the glass of water to his lips and he drank down the cool liquid. It helped take the fuzz off his tongue.

"Hey." He finally got a word out. _Boo Ya_.

"Hey yourself." She smiled again. Fuck, he'd really missed that smile.

"Soup." Joel announced, sitting back in the chair a smug smile on his face. "We need to get some food into him."

_Fuck man, I'm right here._ Daryl thought.

"Do you think you can get it?" Emma looked over at Joel.

Thankfully the man knew how to take a hint. "Sure. I'll tell everyone the good news." He stood. "Good to have you back, Daryl."

"Yeah." Daryl croaked. _Fuck, talking was hard._

Joel rubbed Emma on the shoulders, she placed her hand on his and looked into his eyes with a smile. When he turned to leave Daryl didn't bother throwing daggers at his back. Emma was tight with Joel and Michael. They were very gay, so he knew they'd never put any moves on his woman.

Besides, he liked knowing they'd have her back when he was away. Daryl frowned, suddenly remembering exactly how he got back to Fort Charles.

"What's wrong?" Emma looked worried.

"Nothin'." He didn't have the energy to have at it with Emma. They sure as hell were gonna talk about it though. He added Joel's name to the list of people who were gonna catch hell. _Why the fuck didn't they stop her?_

"You sure?" _Shit_. She could generally tell when he was pissed. "It doesn't look like nothing. I can see the wheels turning, Dixon."

"Later." His voice cracked. _Sonofabitch_

"Okay. Later." She sat down real careful on the edge of the bed like she might break it. Taking one of his hands in hers, she lifted it to her soft, warm lips and placed a kiss across his knuckles. "It's a good thing you didn't die on me, Dixon." She let her fingers trail down the inside of his arm. It was all kinds of nice. "Ida beat the ever living shit out of you if you did."

_Fuck._ He loved it when she swore.

-:{O}:-


	17. Don't ask, don't tell

Chapter 17

Don't ask, don't tell

Daryl was sitting up in bed when Emma walked in two days later. Joel had stepped him off the painkillers that had made him so drowsy. He hurt like hell, but it wasn't so hard to talk or move around anymore.

"Hey you." Her face fuckin' lit up when she saw him. Like a junkie about to get a hit.

"C'mere." He patted the spot next to him on the bed. She looked uncertain. "Fuck Em, I won't break."

The corner of her mouth twitched up and she took the spot next to him. He was able to wrap his arm around her, but she held her weight off him. "Emma." He nuzzled her hair, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. "S'more fun when you relax."

He was rewarded with one helluva blush. She sighed and kicked her legs up onto the bed, stretching out beside him. Her head fell down to his good shoulder and her hand splayed across his chest.

"Much better." He squeezed her a little tighter, mentally telling the pain to go fuck itself.

"How are you feeling today?" She looked up at him through her lashes, her pink lips parted slightly.

"Fuckin' tired of soup." Daryl admitted, wondering if he could move his head low 'nough to catch her mouth in his.

She sat up. "I don't suppose there's any harm in trying some bread and cheese. Want me to get some for you?"

Daryl's stomach grumbled, but he had only just gotten Emma back into his arms. He didn't really want her to go just yet. "Naw. S'fine." His fingers travelled up to brush the hair off her face, revealing the healing bruise. "We are gonna talk 'bout that."

"About what?" She averted her eyes. It was her fuckin' tell. Emma was hidin' something.

"Th'bastard that hurt ya." Daryl let his finger trace down to the bruises on her throat. Her skin was so goddamn soft, especially on the undersides of her arms.

"I told you, Rick shot him. He's dead." She shivered at his touch. "Can't beat a dead man."

Daryl frowned. He'd already had a nice little chat with Rick. He knew Rick put a bullet in the heads of those fuckers before they could rape his Emma. His friend had been very specific, none of them laid a hand on her.

It was a near thing, mind you. "Sure, Em."

She leaned in, placing her soft mouth against his. _Manx._ He thought, _Trying ta distract me._ Reaching a hand behind her head he pulled her in and deepened the kiss. He slipped his other hand around her lower back. A sharp pain stopped his hands from reaching lower. _Shit. An inch or two and Ida had me a handful of ass._

When finally released Emma she was breathless. _Damn straight._ "Don't think I'm gonna forget, Emma." He warned her.

"Not now, okay?" She sighed and settled back in along side him. God he liked how she fit next to him.

"Who's Brandy?" He asked as her fingers followed along the bandages on his chest.

"Brandy?" Emma sounded distant. She was fuckin' thinkin' again. Daryl was sure she was up ta somethin'.

"Th'other day. You were singin'." He scratched the spot on her lower back that always made her purr. "Somethin' 'bout Brandy 'n whiskey."

"Oh. The song." He felt her eyelashes flutter closed against his shoulder. _Atta girl. _"It's about a waitress that falls in love with a sailor."

"Love song?" Daryl rested his head on hers, his voice quiet. He got tired so fuckin' easy it wasn't funny.

"Sortof." She sighed. "In the end he chooses to go back to the sea. Brandy spends her life in love with a man that's not around."

"Sing it." Daryl's eyes rolled shut as he breathed in the smell of her. The leather and soap was mingled with horse today. She'd been at the stable.

"No way. I'm a terrible singer."

"Sang for me then." She'd cave, his Emma wouldn't deny him.

"Yeah,'cause I thought you were asleep." There was no resolve in her voice.

He growled low. "Sing woman."

She sighed and he knew he'd won. Th'other argument he was gonna have with her wouldn't be so easy. But that could wait.

"_She hears him say 'Brandy, you're a fine girl, what a good wife you would be."_

Her voice was quiet and shy. So unlike his Emma, she had brass balls. That's why he didn't recognize her voice straight off last time.

"_But my wife, my lover, my lady is the sea."_

Daryl drifted off to sleep. _Fuckin' idiot sailor…_

-:{O}:-


	18. Ass kicking

Chapter 18

Ass kicking

When Joel finally let Daryl out of the infirmary, he set about working on his shit list. The first thing he planned to do is find out who was responsible for the bruises on his woman.

Daryl knew better than to try to get Michael or Joel to tell him. They'd keep her secrets to the grave, plus she'd get all pissy if he hit one of them.

Gordie on the other hand…

"You're gonna tell me who did it." Daryl fixed the man with a 'don't fuck with me' look.

"Fuck off, Dixon." Gordie didn't even bother looking up from pitchfork he was using to dig in the mulch for the vegetable garden. "I'm busy."

"Tell me you don't know then." Daryl knew one thing about Gordie, he didn't fuckin' lie.

"Go ask Arch." Gordie flipped over another pile of dirt. "Leave me outta this."

"Did you fuckin' touch her?" Daryl grabbed the neck of the pitch fork, yanking it out of Gordie's hands. The move hurt like hell, but anger fueled him. "Answer me!"

"I don't hit girls, asshole."

Daryl's eyes locked on the yellow bruise along the larger man's chin. "Then tell me how ya got that."

"Fuck." Gordie wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "You want the truth? Fine. You did it Daryl. You punched her and tried to strangle her."

"Bullshit." Daryl spat.

"Don't believe me?" Gordie yanked the pitchfork back from Daryl. "Go ask Glenn or Maggie. They had to pull you off her." He bent down and dug back into the soil. "Damn near crushed her neck." He muttered.

"I'd never hurt Emma." There was uncertainty in Daryl's voice.

"Hey man," The big guy's voice softened. "You were outta your head with fever. Screamin' and all. I'm pretty sure you didn't know your name, much less Emma's."

Daryl bit his thumb. "Serious?"

"Yeah."

_Shiiiiiiit._ Guilt settled into Daryl's stomach. He felt like he'd been sucker punched.

Gordie stopped digging and leaned on the handle of the pitch fork. "It was Emma, by the way."

"What?" Daryl blinked.

"The bruise on my face. When you first got here, Joel wanted everyone who wasn't absolutely needed kept out of the infirmary. I'm the poor bastard that had to guard the door when Emma came lookin' for you." He rubbed his jaw. "She took a swing at me."

"No shit?" Daryl had never seen Emma hit anyone… except perhaps Churchill and that fuckin' horse needed a swat every now and then.

"That ain't all either. She beat the hell outta my back too. She was out of her goddamn skull. I ended up carrying her down to the cells and locking her in 'til she calmed the fuck down."

"You locked her up?" _Nobody fuckin' locks up my Emma_.

"Hey, don't loose your shit Daryl. You didn't see her." Gordie wiped a hand across his brow. "She was fried. I could hear Sheila and Costas givin' her hell for takin' off after ya." He sighed. "I thought at least in the cell it'd be quiet. I kept everyone else out until she calmed the fuck down and had some shut eye."

Daryl's heart sank a little. "Was she that bad?"

"She fuckin' cried herself to sleep, Daryl." Gordie shook his head. "It sucked ass."

"Shit." Daryl kicked a pebble and lowered his eyes to the ground.

"Just don't yell at her for going after you." The big man went back to work in the dirt. "She doesn't deserve it."

"Thanks." _Fuck me, I'm such an ass._

"Don't thank me, thank her." Gordie chuckled. "If it were up to me I'd of let your sorry red-neck ass rot."

Daryl's voice was low. "Meant thanks for lookin' out fer her." …_When I couldn't._

"Whatever. Bitches be trouble man." Gordie looked up into the sky. "They cause more trouble than they're worth."

"Emma's no trouble."

"The hell she is." He looked Daryl straight in the eye. "Emma's a boatload of trouble. She's just worth it."

_Fuck yeah._

-:{O}:-


	19. We've got to talk

Chapter 19

We've got to talk

Emma came down from watch to find Daryl sitting in his chair outside their room. He had it tipped back so it leaned against the wall. He'd been allowed out of the infirmary and she'd seen him wandering around the fortress.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" She sat in the rocking chair next to him.

"Waitin' for you."

She understood that the conversation she'd been putting off for over a week was going to happen. Daryl had been on a bit of a warpath, she'd heard him give Joel and Michael hell for letting her run off on her own. Emma's lips drew into a tight line. "I know what you're going to say."

"Yeah?" His voice was impassive.

"Save your breath. I don't want to hear it." She let her head fall back against the chair.

"Emma." Daryl sighed, he stood up from his chair and held his hand out to her. "Bed."

She met his stormy eyes and nodded, placing her hand in his. She followed him into their room and closed the door. They undressed facing away from each other, although Emma thought she caught Daryl sneaking a peek as she peeled of her breeches.

She threw on one of his shirts and climbed into bed beside him, tucking into his good side.

One of his arms curled around her back, the other pulled her arm across his chest. "Emma. I'm sorry."

That she didn't expect. Raising her head she looked over at Daryl's face. He knew about the bruises. "Who squealed?"

"Gordie."

"I'm going to kick his ass." She laid her head back down on Daryl's chest, already plotting her revenge.

Daryl chuckled. "Naw. He's okay. Not his fault anyway. Thought he did it."

"You thought Gordie hit me?"

"Looked like he'd been in a fight."

Emma recalled the bruise on Gordie's face, it had healed quickly but it was still visible. "Yeah, that was my fault." She cringed at the memory. "Gordie didn't fight back."

"Look Emma." Daryl shifted over so he was leaning above her. He searched her eyes before continuing. "I'm fuckin' pissed that I did that to ya. I'm scared as hell that ya came after me on yer own." His voice was low. "You coulda been raped, Em. They'd a made a game o' breakin' you."

Emma closed her eyes and shuddered at the memory.

"Look at me, Em." He waited until her eyes found his again and pressed his forehead to hers. "You're too fuckin' important ta me ta risk. I'm pissed that ya did it." He leaned in to place a feathery kiss on her lips. "I love that ya did it. Yer goddamn fuckin' amazin'. Don't do it again." He kissed her again, deeper this time. "Ever. I ain't kiddin' Emma."

She smiled and tipped her head up to brush her nose against his. "Then don't get caught with your pants down on a run."

"Fuck me." He sighed and fell back onto the mattress. "Gordie's right. Yer all kinds a trouble."

"Swear to God, Daryl." Emma whispered. "You ever say Gordie's right again in our bed and I'm going to beat you."

"Yes Ma'am."

-:{O}:-


	20. Driving Lessons

Chapter 20

Driving Lessons

Emma awoke before Daryl the next morning. She rolled over so that she could look at him, his face was peaceful in sleep. Pursing her lips, Emma tried to decide the best way to get out of bed without waking him. He needed the rest.

She was climbing over him when his hands caught her waist. "Where ya goin'?" His eyes were barely open.

Emma sat back on her knees, straddling his thighs. "I didn't mean to wake you."

His eyes hooded, he slid his hands down to her bare thighs. "Not a bad way t'wake up." His hands wandered up under the shirt. "Got barn duty?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I am back on the work lists full time." They had stepped her off them while Daryl was in the infirmary. Now that he was out, it was back to her regularly scheduled routine. "No rest for the wicked."

His fingers caught on the tops of her panties and he gave them a tug. "Y'got time. Still early."

She bit her lip and shook her head. "You need rest." She unhooked his fingers from her panties and pushed off him. "You're still one big bruise, Dixon."

He rolled onto his bad side, wincing, so that he could watch her. "S'not so bad."

"Sure." Emma grabbed a brush and ran it through her hair. "You're right as rain."

She caught his reflection in the dresser mirror, his eyes were dark. "C'mere. Just one kiss."

Emma pursed her lips. It wasn't going to be just one kiss. She knew it. The corner of his mouth twitched up. Goddamn Daryl Dixon had her number and he knew it.

She put the brush down, turning to face him. Holding his eyes with her own, she shimmied out of her panties very slowly. His breath caught. "I don't think it's going to stop at one kiss." She purred, pushing his shoulders back onto the bed. As she leaned over him to claim his lips in a kiss his hands slid up under the shirt she was wearing. He stroked the sides of her breasts gently.

She pulled his boxers down and straddled him, he reached to grab her hips but she caught his hands. Lacing her fingers into his, she pushed them back down onto the mattress beside his head. "Nuh-uh." She whispered in his ear. "Gotta let the pro drive."

-:{O}:-

_Fuuuuuck._ Daryl's breath caught in his chest when Emma repeated back to him the words he'd once said to her. Back when he was in his 'breaking in' phase with her. He smiled at the memory, she'd been all soft and pliable. _Mmmmmmm… Good times._

Emma held his hands as she positioned herself over his cock, she rubbed herself along its length. Daryl's eyes rolled back into his head. _Yeah…_ This was workin' for him.

He felt the wetness slip out of her and knew she was ready. She slid a condom on and took him quickly, all the way up into her pussy. It was fan-freakin' tastic. When Emma moaned softly he opened his eyes to watch her as she started to rock against his pelvis.

She released his hands and straightened up, he felt himself go deeper inside her. Daryl's hands slid up her legs to rest on the curve of her hips. He didn't grip her, if she wanted to drive, he was gonna let her. Especially since it felt so goddamn good.

His eyes trained on those amazin' tits of hers. They were more than a handful fer sure. He'd always thought himself an ass man, but damn, there was nothin' quite so sexy as watching her breasts bounce as she ground her hips on top of him. He could see her nipples through the t-shirt she was wearing.

He watched as she moaned again, her head tippin' back. Her slender hands slid up between her breasts to her pale throat. If he'd had any strength at all, he'd flip her over and place a kiss over every fucking bruise he'd left there.

Instead, he just lay there and watched.

"Fuck woman." He growled, nearing his peak. "Come for me."

Her head tilted back down and she leveled those damn eyes at him. Her pink lips parting softly as she panted, picking up her pace. _Fuuuck…_ Daryl was coming undone and she didn't look ready to go yet.

He watched as she reached her hand down and touched herself. Her fingers circled her clit.

_Fucksakes_. Daryl came undone, he grabbed her ass with both hands and came with a roar.

Her panting increased and he soon felt her orgasm pulsate around him. She collapsed forward, holding herself up over him on her elbows. She shuddered as he felt himself slide out of her. "I missed you so bad." She whispered.

"I know." He sighed as she rolled off her elbows and stretched out along his side. One leg tossed over his. He pulled the knee up over his hips and massaged the back of her thigh.

"Mmmm." She purred. Her eyes were closed and she looked pretty pleased with herself.

_Damn._ Daryl slipped a hand between her legs, making her eyes fly open. "Not done w'you yet." He growled, slipping his fingers inside and wiping that smug look off her face.

-:{O}:-


	21. Epilogue- Expiration Dates

Epilogue

Expiration Dates

Churchill stomped his hoof crossly as she deposited the wildflowers she'd picked over Jean's grave. He'd been buried when she was off chasing after Daryl. Now that Daryl was on the mend and the people that had killed Jean were dead, it seemed the right time to say goodbye.

She held Churchill's reins a little tighter as the gelding tossed his head. Straightening up she trained her eyes on the wooden cross that marked his tomb. It had been made out of an old hockey stick. It seemed a fitting marker for a man so passionate about the sport.

Jean would have approved.

Fort Charle's cemetery was on the edge of the plains surrounding the fortress. When she'd told Daryl of her plans to visit it he hadn't been overly happy to hear she intended to go alone.

"I'm not alone. I've got Churchill." She'd told him as she swung up into the saddle. She'd heard Daryl cuss as she trotted off through the gates.

Churchill started pawing at the ground. There were walkers nearby for sure. She climbed back onto the big gelding. Daryl wasn't well enough to venture beyond the fortress. He was doubtlessly watching from the wall and she didn't want him having a heart attack.

The gelding snorted, his eyes trained on something she couldn't yet see. Emma readied the staff she carried with her and scanned the tree line. Sure enough, movement caught her eye. A walker emerged.

Churchill pulled at the bit, anxious to get at the walker, but she made him stand. Another emerged from the tree line behind the first.

Eager to unleash his own brand of violence, the gelding bounced underneath her. There was a pike line between her and the walkers. She waited to see if they'd get hung up.

The first did, but not the second.

When it was close enough, she knocked its head off with the staff. Churchill tried to pull after the other one, but it was caught fast by its ribcage on a pike.

She turned the big gelding back towards the fortress, casting one last look over her shoulder at the cemetery. It had been very small when she first arrived, but had grown steadily over the years. There were too many people in the ground there that she had called friend.

Emma was grateful that Daryl hadn't been added to the list. As Churchill wandered up towards the hill her thoughts trained to the other matter nibbling at the edges of her mind.

Daryl had fallen asleep after they made love that morning, and she'd been the one to clean up the condom. There was a definite split in it, not big but…

Well, that was the risk of using expired condoms.

She'd broached the subject once with Joel, months ago. Emma knew there was no pill that she could take to abort a pregnancy, not safely anyway.

So she'd wait and see.

-:{O}:-


End file.
